


Blossom of Snow

by chuckasaurus



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Drama, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I changed the ages of some characters in order for the story to make sense, M/M, Music, Period-Typical Homophobia, Religion, Romance, Slow Burn, The Sound of Music AU, and to loosely follow the ages of the children in the sound of music, but please bear with me, figure skating, this is literally the sound of music but gay with viktor and yuuri okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-07 21:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11067624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuckasaurus/pseuds/chuckasaurus
Summary: The year is 1937, and Viktor Nikiforov, along with the rest of his small Russian National Team, are forced to hide from the clutches of the Third Reich and from the discrimination of the Soviet Union in Austria. Little does he know that a whirlwind by the name of Katsuki Yuuri is about to sweep through his life in the guise of a tutor for the Junior skaters, and will change the pessimistic worldview that Viktor was forced to see.Yuuri will also help Viktor believe in hope, believe in the future, and, with the help of a little music, believe in love again.





	1. Prologue: The Telegram / Prelude

_February 28, 1937. Vienna, Austria._

Viktor stared out the window of the moving car, watching Vienna glide past him in the falling snow. He spotted a telltale red flag with a black blotch in the middle as they drove past an apartment building. Go figure that one of the first places _that mustached bastard_ would want to sink his claws into would be his own home country. However, this was also Viktor’s mother’s land, and he scowled at the Gammadian cross high in the windows of the residence.  

“Vitya, are you listening?” Yakov said, with a hint of desperation. He clutched a telegram in his left hand, which Viktor was trying to ignore more than Yakov.

“Da. But all things considered, I think we’re going to have to cut our trip to Vienna short. Where are the rest of the juniors?” Viktor asked without looking at his coach.

“Patiently waiting at St. Michael’s, wondering why I made them pack their belongings three days early. A friend of a friend is watching over them for me,” Yakov said, turning away from Viktor. “We will not have much time to pack at the hotel, either. We need to move fast.”

“They won’t expect me to try and run until after the free skate tomorrow. We have a good chance of making it out of Vienna.” Viktor was talking more to himself than Yakov, which made him huff. Viktor really didn’t believe his own statement, knowing full well that Yakov believed differently as well. Nazis tended to move at lightning speed when they saw something – or someone- they wanted.  

“Do they think we are stupid? Of course they will try to apprehend you after you skate tomorrow, but we cannot give them the opportunity. Poor Yuri, he was so looking forward to his first Worlds performance…”

Viktor sighed, painfully aware of how irritated the angry teenager would be when they explained why they could not stay for the rest of the competition. “Kaspar will take gold in my absence, too, but he doesn’t have the Nazis nipping at his heels.”

That statement, the fact that he was actually _wanted by the German fascists,_ finally sunk in with Viktor, and a rush of ice ran its way through his stomach. “Where can we possibly go, Yakov? What possible haystack could we hide in?” His voice wavered, finally betraying the fear he thought he could hide from his mentor.

“We certainly cannot drive back to Russia. Our absence will be noted, and the borders of the Third Reich, and likely the surrounding countries, will be closed by the time we can make an attempt. We also cannot go the long way without making other governments victims of the Führer in the process. We probably would not be welcomed back into Russia anyway, what with your … deviance from Stalin’s ideologies.”

Viktor ignored the jab from Yakov. “How did this happen? How are we suddenly fighting a war on two fronts? I didn’t ask for this!”

“I do not think anyone affected by this ridiculous infighting has asked for it. Would your babushka be willing to take us?”

“In this case, she would be my Oma, and I haven’t spoken to her since my mother died. I’m not sure which city she lived in, anyway; she and Mother never got along after my father was in the picture.” Viktor wishes there was something he could do besides the unthinkable. He did not want to drag the rest of their team down with him, but that picture was surely _leagues_ better than the horrors that awaited him in Berlin.

“Well, we can talk to Sister Helga and see if we can stay the night at the church while we make a plan. God only knows what we can do in the morning.” Yakov sighed again, shoving the telegram in his pocket as the driver pulled up outside the hotel.

Yakov insisted on accompanying Viktor upstairs, and kept a lookout while Viktor shoved his belongings back into his trunk. They met the car at the back entrance of the lavish hotel, and drove the rest of the way to the cathedral in terse silence. Yakov kept shoving his hand in the pocket to grasp the telegram, and Viktor swept the hair out of his eyes.

When they pulled up to the Gothic church, Viktor tucked his hair into his hat and wrestled his coat onto his shoulders. He grabbed his bags and walked into the cathedral, keeping up the image of nonchalance while his heart raced in his chest.

Yakov was already knocking on the rectory door when Viktor closed the massive door. A clothed head peeked out, saw that it was just the two of them, and opened the door for the two men to slide in.

Georgi was being comforted by Mila, held in her arms and shaking in fear. Mila, clearly out of her depth, was trying to verbally reassure Yuri on the small couch against the wall and rub Georgi’s back. Yuri had no fear in his eyes, and did not seem to comprehend the situation any more than just being furious at Yakov and Viktor. He had his light blue and silver short program costume balled in his fists.

“Yakov, where have you BEEN? We’ve been waiting for hours, old man!” Yuri growled, and Mila shook her head.

“Calm down, Yura. Believe me when I say that your usual temper is not going to make this situation any easier. Sister Helga, thank you for your assistance, but may I please speak to my students briefly?” said Yakov, as calmly as he could. Helga nodded and closed the door behind her.

Yakov looked to Viktor to explain, but he was sitting on the chair, taking Georgi out of Mila’s arms and stroking his hair. Their coach sighed and pulled out the telegram, shoulders slumping with the dreadful retelling of their situation.

By the end of the story, Yuri’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, and Mila held a hand over her mouth. Georgi’s shaking worsened, and he began to cry against Viktor’s chest.

“You understand that any attempt to get back to Russia will either end with us in the custody of the Third Reich, or in a gulag as associates of Vitya’s?” Yakov looked at his three younger students, all of whom were more fearful than before. Viktor’s gut wrenched at the sight.

 _I’m leading them into a life of misery, away safety and away from what they love_. Georgi’s shaking body and the slow tears rolling down Mila’s face wrenched at Viktor’s heart. _There’s no way I’m dragging them down with me._

“… Yakov, there is a third option,” Viktor stated, looking over Georgi’s head and into Yakov’s eyes.

Yakov turned his head in confusion, but his face went red in anger as he realized the meaning in Viktor’s words. “That is not an option. I will not let you throw your life away. Besides, we are family. We decide together, and that is NOT an option.”

Viktor’s anger flared. “One life has less value than five. If giving in gives you a chance to get back-“

“Vitya, please,” Mila begged, finally breaking from her silent weeping. “That is not an option. Know that from us. We couldn’t bear to let you give yourself to that fascist pig, not knowing that we could have done something to prevent it.”

Before he could retort that this was ridiculous, a loud knock came from the door. The five Russians froze, then moved to hide behind the door. Sister Helga rushed back into the room, waving for the Russians to sneak down the hallway to the kitchen as she slowed her pace to the door.

She opened slowly as Yuri and Georgi made it through the door. Viktor overheard a gasp from Sister Helga.

“Tophie?! You should not be here!” Helga whispered the reprimand, shooting a glance towards the Russians in the kitchen.

“Please, Cousine Helga, there’s no time. I have to know if a friend is here. Could you ask Father Strassburg if an older Russian man is here?” The voice had a clear German –no, Swiss – accent, with an uncharacteristic desperation written plain in the tone of his voice. Viktor would know that voice anywhere.

“Christophe?” Viktor rushed out from the kitchen, and sighed in relief at the sight of his best friend.

“Chéri! I thought I was too late!” Christophe scooped Viktor into a hug, and Sister Helga barred the door behind the Swiss. Viktor was so glad to see his best friend, but a swoop of panic overtook him at the speed at which Christophe found their hiding place.  

“Chris, how did you find us? Please, if you could then _they_ can as well!”

“No, chéri, Yakov asked me if there was a safe place for the kids and I led them here, to my cousin.” Chris nodded to Helga, who smiled. “I basically grew up in Vienna, what with my father’s position in the new Austrian parliament after the end of the empire.”

He pulled back but held Viktor firm by the shoulders. “That’s not important right now. They searched the hotel, but I think you beat them there. They will be scouring the crowd tomorrow for any sign of the Russian team, and asking questions about your absence. I assume you’re not performing your free skate?”

Viktor shook his head, unable to form the words.

“Good. Under the circumstances, that would be impossible, not without falling into the Fuhrer’s hands. What about the children?”

Viktor choked, and Yakov saved Viktor from having to speak. “Niet. Should the young ones perform at their competition, they would be captured to be used as bait, or worse. Christophe, we do not know what to do.”

Chris looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned to Helga. “Is my father’s estate still open?”

Helga nodded. “But not the one in Vienna, I’m afraid.” She had a deep voice with a pleasant Swiss accent. Viktor did not know the implication of her words, but was comforted by her soothing tone.

Chris smiled, despite everything. “My father’s hometown, then?” Helga nodded in affirmation, and Chris turned to the five Russians.

“Has anyone ever been to Salzburg?”

* * *

 

_October 15, 1937. The mountains east of Salzburg, Austria_

Nothing ever felt as good as the first solid freeze in the mountains. Yuuri made rapid turns around the frozen pond, and leapt into an axel, one of his favorite jumps. When he landed, the breeze picked up his hair, and he held his arms out beside him. Absolutely nothing in the world compared to how free Yuuri felt in this moment.

Words from an old Austrian folk [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5fH2FOn1V5g) his friends taught him rang in his ears as he glided forward _. I go to the hills, when my heart is lonely…_ he sang to himself, throwing himself into a spin and coming to a sudden stop, looking up at the vast peaks above him.

“My heart will be blessed with the sound of music,” he sang softly, melody echoing off the ice, and Yuuri raised a hand to his heart for the final part of his improvised routine. His old ice skates cut along the ice, and Yuuri stopped in the center of the ice, humming the last swell of the music. 

He hoped for a dry, cold winter in Salzburg, so he could return to his borrowed mountain pond as often as he desired without having to worry about trekking through snow. Birds cawed in the distance, and the morning sun shined between the mountains. Few things compared to the mountains beyond Salzberg, and Yuuri loved distracting himself from the world that was about to tear itself apart.

Yuuri’s heart froze at the sight of the sunrise, realizing how much time had slipped by, and when the breeze died down, he finally heard the morning mass bells toll at Stift Nonnberg. He almost leapt out of his skin at the sound, rushing to the side of the pond to yank his skates off and pull his loafers back on.

As he was tying the skates together by the laces to throw over his shoulder, he heard a door open and close nearby.

“Guten Morgen! Running late, Herr Katsuki?” Herr Reinsler, the wizened man who retired to live in the mountains above Salzburg, inquired from the door. Yuuri had been skating on the pond near Herr Reinsler's front yard for nearly a year now, and was always welcomed by the Austrian hermit. He held two mugs in his hand, the fresh coffee wafting to tempt Yuuri into the warmth of his house.

“My apologies, Herr Reinsler, I have to go!” Yuuri rushed in German, waving over his shoulder as he ran back down the mountain path.

“Wait, Yuuri!” Yuuri turned and saw Herr Reinsler holding his long black robe up, and Yuuri yelped, running back to grab it.

“Thank you! Aufwiedersehen!” Yuuri called back, yanking the monk’s robe over his head and yanking his skates back onto his shoulder. This was the fourth time this month Yuuri would be late for morning mass, if he even made it in time to attend, but the fresh freeze was too perfect to ignore. He regretted every life decision that led up to this moment, but he did it with a smile on his sweating face.

Yuuri Katsuki knew one thing for certain; he was going to be in _so much trouble_ when Mother Superior caught him.

 


	2. What Will My Future Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri makes it back to the abbey without punishment, but with a nasty surprise in store. In light of some terrible news from the town, he must be sent away from the abbey and from his friends for their protection, to teach a family of seven children under the guise of being their foreign tutor. 
> 
> Little does he know what is truly in store for him at the Feltsman estate.

Yuuri sprinted down the mountain, attempting to not trip over any loose rock or tangled root in the road. He would have a hard enough time explaining his absence from morning mass, let alone if he showed up with ribbed and bloodied robes from carelessly falling while on an (unsanctioned) excursion in the mountains bordering Salzburg.

He was in _so much trouble_.

Yuuri had always been so careful when planning these brief escapes, both while attending the boarding school in Dusseldorf and when they made their way to Stift Nonnberg in 1936. Despite having lived in Salzburg for nearly two years, Yuuri had not learned his lesson. Or any subtlety, for that matter.

Stift Nonnberg strictly prohibited many habits and behaviors Yuuri found irresistible, including singing and dancing within the abbey without permission. The rules were especially strict with him and his cohorts, since they were trying to stay under the radar at the abbey. But eventually, the mountains beckoned too loudly to Yuuri and he could not resist their call, sneaking there simply to be by himself at first, but then breaking more rules while there. He often sang to himself, or even borrowed Herr Reinsler’s battered guitar to practice music. In the winters, he even smuggled his own ice skates up to the mountain lake to fully entangle himself in his passion.

But, in the end, he was always caught by Mother Superior and the other sisters, and was always punished for breaking the rules. Punishment in a Catholic abbey usually just meant confession and extra prayer, but all that did to discourage Yuuri was to give him sore knees from kneeling for too long.

Speaking of sore knees, Yuuri almost bruised his terribly while avoiding a fountain in the town square. He was in the valley between his mountain and the one that Stift Nonnberg was situated on, and Salzburg proper was in that valley. The town was still sleepy on this Sunday morning, or they were attending morning mass at one of the many churches in the city, so Yuuri did not have to dodge around too many crowds.

When he made it back to the abbey gates, he threw himself into them, and slipped through the crack in the heavy wrought-iron gate. Before closing them, he stashed his beaten skates in an alcove near the entrance, and closed the gates as quietly as he could. In the bowels of the abbey, he heard the final Hallelujah’s being sang in the chapel, and his heart sank.

_My absence will be noted. I am in SO MUCH TROUBLE_ , he thought to himself. Well, if he was going to be this late, he may as well act like he overslept rather than breaking every rule they had for him and his classmates. He sprinted into the courtyard to the water spigot situated in the middle, and splashed water onto his face before noting the eerie silence. Like he was being watched.

Yuuri’s heart sped up, despite all his running earlier, and he turned on his heels. With a little _eep!_ from his throat, he saw Sisters Agatha, Margheretta, Sophia, and the Mother Superior herself watching from a corner of the yard. They simply watched him, had been watching him since his hurried entrance, and made no move to reprimand him or, really, to move at all.

With a sinking heart, realizing he had been caught, he simply shrugged and wiped his face on his robe as he walked towards the chapel, hoping to catch the last few minutes of the service and then the private prayer hour. But as he left the courtyard, he heard muffled singing in harmony coming from behind him, which he was sure he imagined;

_“How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”_

* * *

 

He slipped in through the side entrance of the chapel, sitting in the back where his other classmates were instructed to sit. Phichit was sitting on the end, and scooted over when he saw Yuuri finally enter. Otabek, the mysterious Kazakh, sat on Phichit’s other side, along with Seung-Gil and Guang-Hong. All faced forward when Yuuri slid into the pew, except for Minami, sitting furthest from him and Phichit, who waved excitedly at Yuuri’s arrival.

Father Celestino followed the movement from the front of the church and made eye contact with Yuuri, sighing slightly as he went on with the last part of the service. Yuuri reddened and sunk further into his seat. _Great, more trouble for Yuuri today._

He really should not be too worried. The title “brother” that the official Stift Nonnberg clergy gave him and his cohorts was really more of a front than anything, and they were not subject to the rules of the Catholic church proper. They were simply here because there was nowhere else they could go, and the Mother Superior, once Sister Minako, had brought them to the large Salzburg abbey.

However, the Mother Superior knew the six boys hiding at the abbey very well, having been the headmistress at their boarding school in Dusseldorf, and set strict rules accordingly. Yuuri did not necessarily have to worry about the punishments of sinning, but breaking Mother Superior’s rules meant hours of prayer and the insides of confessional booths, as well as other chores, like thoroughly cleaning whatever the Mother Superior deemed needed cleaning. The last time Yuuri was caught, he was sent to the bell tower to clean the mass bell, which, in Yuuri’s humble opinion, was the _last thing_ that needed cleaning, since only the clergy could go up the tower.

That, and the bell almost blew his eardrums out when he was not finished cleaning by the time evening mass rolled around.

Father Celestino called for the end of mass, and the choir sang the final hymns before leaving the congregation for the private prayer. Phichit and the others began to stand to leave, and Yuuri made to follow them until he saw Celestino making his way towards their pew.

“You five go on ahead, I have to reap the rewards for my transgression this morning,” Yuuri said with fake ease, kneeling onto the wooden kneeler and settling into prayer position. Father Celestino made the sign of the cross in the aisle and joined Yuuri as the last of the other kids filed out of the pew.

“Late again, Yuuri. I suppose I don’t have to ask where you were,” Celestino started, glancing out of the corner of his eye, to see Yuuri duck his head in shame.

“I’m sorry, Father, it was the first solid freeze this morning, and I thought I would make it back in time for mass-“ Yuuri began, but Celestino held up a hand.

“Honestly, Yuuri, it does not concern me what you do with free time. You are here as guests of the Mother Superior, and it is a pleasure to have you boys here, but you need to be careful,” Celestino faced Yuuri, who was still facing forward and shrinking slightly under the priest’s words. “The situation in Germany, well, the new regime in Germany forced you to go into hiding, lest you be used for Hitler’s embassies for the Third Reich. Six well-educated boys from possible allied states could prove incredibly useful to someone such as him, especially with your particular skill with languages. Obviously, any solution was better than remaining in Dusseldorf.”

Yuuri kept listening, knowing all that he said and keeping silent.

“All I am saying is that, while you are all young and deserve time to be young, you must be careful for who is watching. Rumors have started cropping up around Salzburg of those who are sympathetic to Hitler, and would use any opportunity to get in his good favor, like finding a group of six young men who look like they belong on the other side of this land mass.”

Yuuri had not heard of any such rumors, but Father Celestino often made rounds to the other churches in Salzburg and would trust his word on these matters.

“If not for yourself, Yuuri, please be careful for your five friends. You are old enough to make your own decisions, but Minami and Guang-hong are still young and impressionable, and will want to follow you wherever you go. Make sure that is not to a place where they will be harmed.”

Celestino stood, making his way back to the aisle to greet the morning with the other priests and brothers. Yuuri sighed and stood as well, making the sign of the cross for posterity’s sake. When he slipped out the chapel’s side door, Sister Eleanor was waiting for him.

“Yuuri, the Mother Superior would like to see you.”

* * *

 

He took a deep breath before following Eleanor into Mother Superior’s office. She  was wearing her round glasses and looking over papers when he walked in, and Eleanor closed the door behind him, leaving him facing Mother Minako alone. She glanced up and gave a small smile.

“Yuuri, come in,” she beckoned to the chair in front of her desk. He paced across the room, taking her hand and kissing it while genuflecting before taking the seat.

“Oh, ah, Reverend Mother, I’m so sorry I was late this morning, I just couldn’t help myself! It was the first real freeze, but the birds were still singing and the sun shining, and I just had to be a part of it! The hills were so open and inviting-“

“Yuuri, slow down-“

“And I just couldn’t resist! I don’t think I have ever been able to, and I know that it can be a danger, Father Celestino already spoke to me-“

“Yuuri!”

He was determined to grovel enough to evade serious cleaning, but forgot himself in the process. The Reverend Mother, once Sister Minako, was once his close confidant and a close friend to his family back in Japan, but here she was the highest female authority in the Catholic community of Salzburg. He kissed her ring, as was protocol, but then never let her get a word in. He ducked his head again.

“Forgive me, Reverend Mother, please continue.”

“Believe it or not, Yuuri, I have not summoned you here for apologies, although yours are always welcome, as frequent as they are.” She paused to smile at him, and Yuuri took advantage.

“It’s just that, when I woke up this morning, I noticed that the abbey pond had frozen over, and I thought that if I hurried enough, I would make it to Herr Reinsler’s pond before the day began to warm up, and as I walked over, the sun hit the hills in the most spectacular way, so I stopped and enjoyed it for a while, and I must have lost track of-“

“Yuuri! I did not ask you up here to berate you for losing time.”

This made Yuuri wonder. If he was not in trouble for being late, then what was he in trouble for? Before he could ask, Minako held up a hand.

“Unfortunately, it is much worse than that. There was talk at the far side of town this morning about a Japanese man running towards the mountains of Salzburg, and I’m afraid that the news of that has reached dangerous people by now.”

Yuuri froze, mind blanking before running through what Celestino said earlier. This could be truly awful for the six students hiding at Stift Nonnberg. Captured and sent to Berlin, awful. He began to breathe more heavily.

“Now, while you pass fairly well for European from afar, what with your lighter complexion, it wasn’t enough to fool this person, who spread word at their church. While our presence has been welcomed in Salzburg so far-“

“Favor can be won through reporting the presence of strange foreigners to the Third Reich,” Yuuri whispered, and Minako nodded solemnly.

“My position within the church and community of Salzburg has been enough to keep me safe for now, but in times like these, I’m afraid that acceptance will not pass along to you and your classmates. Now, the five of them have not made appearances in town lately, and will be kept safe here within Stift Nonnberg, but in your case, I’m afraid that is no longer possible.”

Yuuri’s heart sank at her words. He couldn’t stay. His presence, no matter how innocent, would be a danger to his friends and to Minako. He’d been naïve to think that he could enjoy the first freeze and get away with it scotch-free. There was no way out of this. He had to leave the country, go back to Imperial Japan, or anywhere else away-

“Yuuri, I can practically hear you thinking. Tell me what is on your mind, child,” Minako said, steepling her fingers in front of herself.

“I guess I need to leave the country, maybe even go back to Japan. I can’t stay here.” Yuuri said, voice slightly cracking at the end of his sentence. Tears threatened to spill, and he took a shaky breath to try and calm his nerves.

“With that, we are in agreement, Yuuri. You cannot stay at Stift Nonnberg for the risk of exposing your five peers to the changing atmosphere in Austria. However, I am not asking you to leave Salzburg, let alone leave the country.”

Yuuri’s eyes shot up at the statement, hope blooming in his chest. “Where am I to go, then?”

Minako seemed to sit up straighter with Yuuri’s more positive reaction. “There is a family at the edge of town, on the southeast side of the lake, who have written about hiring a tutor for their children. For whatever reason, they have decided to pull their children from boarding schools and opted for homeschooling, but they have not had luck with teachers and governesses. You will be the twelfth in a long line of people attempting to do these children some good-“

“Forgive me, Mother, but how many children are there?”

“Seven.”

Yuuri felt his mouth drop open. “Seven children?! My goodness, no wonder they have had trouble.”

“Now, that was not very generous, Yuuri. I went and visited the father just recently, and Mr. Feltsman and his children seem to be very nice and generous people, if not a little strict.” Minako rose from her seat to face Yuuri in front of her desk, and Yuuri looked at the floor.

“Forgive me again, Mother, that was unkind.”

“All is fine, Yuuri. Now, clearly, you are in a great position to teach these children, being incredibly well educated yourself, but there is another reason for you going to stay with them,” Minako continued, pacing around the other side of the room. “You will no longer be ‘Brother Yuuri” to the curious mind, and will spin the story that you were hired from England to teach the Feltsman children. This will, God willing, allay suspicion and draw attention away from Stift Nonnberg. This will allow time for me to work on a more solid exit strategy for you and your classmates. It has become clear that Austria may not be safe for very much longer, and we will have to relocate to neutral territory, or even with the Allies. Until then, teach these children, fit in with the family, and lay low.”

Minako smiled kindly at Yuuri now, sensing his unease. “I promise, Yuuri, that we are probably making too much of the situation. You and your classmates are most likely completely safe, but it would not hurt to have some caution. You may still visit on your days off, or even bring the children to the abbey for a lesson, but they are your new focus. Now, go pack your things, and God be with you.”

Yuuri gulped in nervousness before rising, kissing Minako’s ring, and exiting the room. The walk back to their dormitory felt like it took years, and when he finally reached the doorway, it was to find a flurry of movement from within.

Phichit, Otabek, and the rest of his friends seemed to be packing their things in a hurry, shoving books and clothes into their trunks at the ends of their beds.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Yuuri questioned, heading to his bed to do the same. Phichit looked up and smiled at Yuuri, but it was Minami who answered.

“Father Celestino explained everything to us, and we thought it prudent to move to a more inconspicuous part of the abbey, just as a precaution,” Minami said with a smile. He had the most belongings, and was having a hard time jamming them into his steamer trunk. Otabek, who had only a few books and changes of clothing, was sitting on his trunk, waiting for everyone else to be finished.

“Where are they sending you off to?” Otabek asked, chin in his hand as he gazed at Yuuri. The Kazakh was intense, but never unkind, and always supportive of the group.

“I’m to teach a family on the outskirts of Salzburg,” Yuuri replied, also conveying the rest of his story along with his alibi to his friends. They nodded along, finishing with their packing one-by-one and waiting to move until Yuuri left.

Phichit finally spoke up. “Well, you’re the oldest of us, and the best suited to be a teacher. That’s what you wanted to do after graduation, anyway, so this seems like as good of an excuse as any to get into the field!” Phichit was always optimistic, and Yuuri smiled kindly at his best friend.

“You’re right, I just wish it hadn’t been like this. I don’t know when I’ll get to see you all anymore.”

They all came up and hugged him, assuring him that they would make time for him to return and visit as often as possible. When it was Phichit’s turn, he first handed Yuuri the ice skates he left at the front entrance of the abbey.

“You can’t leave without these, can you? You’ll be living close to the lake, so there will be plenty of time to get out and finally make that double!” Phichit said, throwing the skates into Yuuri’s trunk, and then pulling him into a fierce hug. “Every week, Yuuri. We’d better hear from you every week, whether by letter or in person. No excuses.”

“No excuses,” Yuuri agreed, breaking the hug and grabbing his trunk with one hand. Sister Eleanor knocked on the door to collect the five students to show them to their new dormitory, and Yuuri waved as they went.

When the door closed behind his closest friends in the world, Yuuri fully and truly began to panic. What made him think that he could do this?! Sure, it may have been more out of necessity than the actual need to send a teacher, what with the suspicion surrounding his presence, but Yuuri still mourned the loss of the protective walls of Stift Nonnberg before he even left. All that besides, what made him think that he was qualified to teach children? What made the Reverend Mother think that? Why _him_?!

Sitting on his upturned trunk now, Yuuri put his face in his hands and began to bounce his leg. His breaths came more quickly, and he felt the beginnings of one of his attacks. Those seven children would be much better off without him, honestly, and he could just stay here and live the rest of his life behind the sanctuary walls where he was most comfortable.

But, the more the thoughts about staying at the abbey circled in Yuuri’s head, the more he realized that he would never be content with a life as still and stagnant as that. He knew that life in the abbey led in one direction for young men, and he knew in his bones that, no matter how little he thought he could bring to the career of teaching, he would bring even less to a life dedicated to the cloth.

Ironically, as that crossed his mind, a knock came at the door, and Father Celestino swept into the empty dormitory. “Yuuri, it’s time. I’m here to see you off and give you direction to the Feltsman estate,” Celestino’s bass rumbled through the quiet room.

Yuuri struggled to take a deep breath, what with the attack still at hand, and slowly stood and grabbed his sparse possessions. His modest trunk in one hand and his coat in the other, Yuuri shuffled to the door.

It was a quiet walk down to the courtyard of the abbey, Yuuri with his eyes on the ground, save for the few abbots and nuns he passed who bade him farewell. He muttered goodbyes to them, and kept walking. When they reached the front gate, Celestino held open the heavy wrought-iron gate for Yuuri, but held him at the door.

“Yuuri, hold on a minute,” Celestino said, holding the gate with his back so he could place his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri finally raised his eyes and met Celestino’s grey ones, which looked solemn yet, somehow, sad?

“Listen to me, Yuuri. I know that this is not an ideal arrangement, and that we wanted to prevent separating the six of you, but times are changing. Sacrifices are going to have to be made in order to keep everyone safe, and if it’s any consolation, I think you will do well at the Feltsman estate.”

At the mention of his classmates, Yuuri’s throat finally closed up, and he fought back the moisture in his eyes as he kept looking at Celestino.

“While I know all of that, I also know this; that you will thrive as a teacher, and I think that it is what you were meant to do in this life. You have so much passion in your heart, and so much love to give, and those children are going to shine brighter under your tutelage.” Yuuri had never heard Celestino be so sincere, and a tear finally rolled down his cheek under the praise.

However, that surprise of warmth suddenly turned to shock as Celestino pulled him into a hug, which was something that Yuuri did not expect from a man who had barely offered him handshakes before. Yuuri’s hands were full, so he simply stood in Celestino’s embrace, until he heard urgent whispering in his ear.

“Listen to me carefully, Yuuri. Things will not be as we told you at the Feltsman estate, and that will become painfully clear once you’ve arrived and seen for yourself. We have agreed with Herr Feltsman to keep certain truths private in order to ensure everyone’s safety, and under the complicit understanding that, if the truth were to be revealed, both the six of you and the Mother Superior, as well as the Feltsmans, would be in more danger than any of you would ever realize. Please, Yuuri, take everything in stride, adapt, and understand that questions and innocent curiosity could cost lives. Do you understand?”

This was said very quickly, and Yuuri couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Couldn’t believe what Minako and Celestino seemed to have gotten him into. He remembered that Celestino was waiting for an affirmation, but could only bring himself to give a jerky nod. The older man released him, smiling.

“All that said, Yuuri, I have complete confidence in you, and you should have confidence in yourself. You are going to do well.” With a wink, Father Celestino shut the gate behind him, leaving Yuuri to face Salzburg and, eventually, the seven Feltsman children, alone.

His attack was gone, replaced with utter confusion, but he remembered Celestino’s final words. _I have complete confidence in you, and you should have confidence in yourself_.

Well, he may lack in confidence, but his stubborn, defiant will to thrive in any situation would have to do, and that side of him he had complete confidence in. With a slightly more cheerful attitude, he pulled his coat on and set off across the city of Salzburg, and to what would amount to be the greatest challenge of his young life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two weeks after my initial posting deadline, but, damnit, I actually posted something. Sorry!
> 
> Really, just a complete lack of motivation has kept me from posting, but I'm hoping to add more regularity to my schedule after this (and after another update for the Parking Spot AU). 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and sorry for the wait!


	3. I have confidence? then why am I so scared?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri arrives at the Feltsman manor and meets the children, but more and more questions arise as something does not seem right at the manse. 
> 
> He also gets a surprise at meeting the seventh, and most mysterious, 'child' of the Feltsman family.

His confidence did not last long after Yuuri stepped out of Stift Nonnberg to face his new future at the Feltsman manor. In fact, it barely lasted down the hill and into the heart of Salzburg.

Yuuri knew this new opportunity was likely going to be the best he could get until the war was over. Anything to help him help the world and make those around him feel better would be enough. There certainly was not enough good in the world right now, and adding to it by making a family more knowledgeable would certainly help make Yuuri happier. Plus, there was the added benefit that leaving the abbey meant that he could keep his more conspicuous looking friends a secret for longer.

His dark hair was obscured by a wide-brimmed hat, and his mono-lidded eyes were behind a thick set of blue glasses that he always wore. From afar (granted, pretty far), and with his light complexion, he could pass for European, much to his dismay. He hated dismissing his heritage, especially when he was so proud to be from a great, yet flawed, country like Japan. But, it was much safer for him to pretend, as they were still on the run after what happened in Dusseldorf.

His friends were not so lucky. Minami and Guang-hong were like him, in that their lighter hair could be European, if their grasp on Western languages was better. Seung-il, Otabek, and Phichit, while better with English and German, stuck out like sore thumbs in the thick European crowds, with their darker complexions and jet black hair.

Well, Yuuri would not have to hide for long, as he couldn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t at the Feltsman’s manor. He would likely be staying at the manor for a very long time, possibly years, so the more comfortable they were with Yuuri, the better.

His heart sank at his mental vocabulary. They shouldn’t have to be made comfortable in the presence of Yuuri, and making others comfortable with his appearance shouldn’t have to be a priority with Yuuri. But, he was in a world and in a time where being Japanese could be dangerous to the wrong people, and protecting his identity and ethnicity had to be a priority. He was who he was, for better or worse, and nothing could make him regret that.

With that thought, he stuck his chest out a little farther and picked up the pace through the town. He made sure to keep his brim slightly downturned in order to shield his face, but he still looked straight ahead of himself instead of at the ground.

Honestly, what was he so worried about? Seven children? What was so fearsome about that? Yuuri had tutored many more kids than that at a time in Dusseldorf, of all ages and sizes. Being the eldest of the six hiding in the abbey also made him the de facto leader, with all the responsibilities that came with it. He and Minako had tried to keep teaching their younger counterparts, until they all insisted that there were more important things than their education to pay attention to. While Yuuri had disagreed, Minako agreed with them, stating that “you can’t _make_ them learn, Yuuri. They’ll go back to their studies when they’re ready,” while also citing his lack of formal education as a teacher.

But, with all of that considered, he had plenty of experience with tutoring at the academy in Dusseldorf, as well as teaching his friends once they arrived in Salzburg. If the Reverend Mother had faith that he could do this, then that was enough evidence for him. He has done this before, all he has to do is show the children that he’s worthy to be their teacher.

And while Yuuri shows the children that he is worthy of teaching them, he will also prove it to himself.

He continued his journey through the city, walking around fountains and admiring the architecture as he continued thinking about this bizarre assignment he had been given. Beyond the fact that there were seven of them, Yuuri knew next to nothing about these kids. They lived in the wealthier part of Salzburg, likely on the lakeshore in what has already been described as a manor. That also meant that there would be other staff working in the house, like a butler, maids, cooks, and probably even a housekeeper. Yuuri assumed that these kids would be of all different ages, so he would have to plan lessons and subjects individually to each child’s skill level. This kind of planning was something he was familiar and comfortable with, which added another notch to his confidence.

He was starting to believe that he could _actually do this_.

He passed by the bakery, smelling the strudels and pastries, and he felt his stomach growl. By the time he reached the manor, it would almost be dinner, and as he didn’t have any money on his person, he would have to hold out until then. For now, he had to reach the bus station that was still two blocks away.

When he reached the station, the attendant told him that the next bus was in half an hour, so he had to kill some time. Rather than exploring more of the Salzburg he hadn’t explored, he just sat on a bench outside the bus station.

Despite how still he was sitting, his mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour. How his day had changed. He went from breaking the Reverend Mother’s rules by skating and bringing attention to himself, to traveling to become a teacher to seven children. Seven children who had already been through twelve other governesses and tutors. Somehow, he would find a way to impress them, and to bring structure that was clearly needed without being unkind. Teaching was a delicate balance, as he was quickly learning, between being likeable and being strict. These kids would look up to him, and he would be damned if he failed them now. The adults in his life – Minako, his parents, the other teachers at the academy, and Herr Reinsler – had never given up on him, and he owed it to them to show the same dedication to his new students.

He realized with a pang in his heart that he did not get the chance to say goodbye to Reinsler on the top of his mountain. It suddenly struck him that, really, only eight people knew where he was going.

Before he got caught up in sadness, the bus arrived, and he clambered aboard to get a window seat.

The bus let him off at the entrance of a long drive that led into the wealthier neighborhood, and he waved a “thank you” to the bus driver.

His mind was blank as he walked the last mile to the Feltsman estate, preparing for whatever he would have to face inside. Over the years, Yuuri had learned that his confidence came from these quiet moments when others needed him more than he was nervous, and that confidence only built as he walked past the other large manses.

The lake shone brightly to his left, and the gates surrounding the increasingly large manses stood on the right side of the road, with large trees that canopied the road. The manors sat on the feet of a range of the Alps on one side, and the neighboring peaks were on the other shore of the lake. The frost of the morning had melted in the rising sun, but was replaced by a cool mist rising from the water, which really only added to the splendor of the area. While Yuuri had only explored Salzburg near Stift Nonnberg, as well as Herr Reinsler’s land and pond, he finally realized what drew people to this sleepy city on the border of Austria.

He continued to admire the scenery as he counted down the address numbers, waving at the occasional passing car on the gravel road. Yuuri thought he was prepared when he finally reached his destination.

He was wrong.

Once in front of the address that the Reverend Mother had written for him, he gasped and finally felt a little fear creep into him. The estate was massive, probably larger than all the other houses around the lake, with a large wrought-iron gate and a tree-covered circular drive leading to the double-door entrance. The house itself was beautiful; three stories with lots of windows and a yellow stone façade. There were buildings on either side of the gate, likely a garage and a workspace, but the beautiful house really stole the show.

Not one for dallying longer than necessary, Yuuri yanked the gate open with his free hand and marched to the front door, tripping only once on the loose gravel driveway. His confidence spiked again, likely from stubbornness, and he knew that the moment of truth was upon him.

But, in his haste, he practically fell against the doorbell, and slumped against the wall to catch his breath. When did he lose his breath? He was probably more anxious than he knew, but he would have to acknowledge that later.

The door opened suddenly, and Yuuri spun around wildly to field whoever came through it. It was an older man, with shoulder-length grey hair and a slightly red face. His arms were crossed in front of him, and Yuuri noticed that he was wearing a coat despite coming from the inside.

Nonetheless, Yuuri knew he had to make a great first impression.

“Hello! Well, here I am!” he exclaimed, giving the man a bright smile. He didn’t respond, and looked at Yuuri’s hat before making eye contact. The man had dark spots under his eyes, and Yuuri wondered if he had slept.

Maybe he hadn’t been clear about who he was. With a start, he realized he didn’t even say who he was.

“Oh, I am so sorry! Forgive me, I’m from the abbey, I’m the new teacher? Yuuri Katsuki! Are you Herr Feltsman?”

The man finally spoke, “I am indeed.”

Yuuri grabbed his hand and shook it, and the man’s eyes widened a bit. “Well, how do you do?”

He didn’t speak again, but Herr Feltsman turned aside, letting Yuuri slip through the door. As magnificent as the house was on the outside, somehow the inside was even more impressive. Grand staircases ascended from either side of the door, leading up to second floor balconies and doors that led off to separate rooms. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the floor was covered in red and white tile that made an intricate pattern. Yuuri gasped, and spun back around to face Herr Feltsman.

“Uhm, you have a beautiful home, Herr Feltsman!”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he replied, stepping down the stairs to the main floor. Yuuri felt his eyebrows come together on his forehead quizzically. _Unfortunately?_ What a strange response. Yuuri stood there shocked for a beat, then followed the man down the steps.

Herr Feltsman made to grab Yuuri’s trunk from his hand, and Yuuri let him, slightly confused. “I’ll inform Herr Neumann that you’ve arrived. Uh, wait here, please.”

Without another word, he slipped off to the left side of the room, exiting through one of the many doors and leaving Yuuri alone in the massive entryway. Who _the hell_ was Herr Neumann, and why would the owner take his bags rather than a butler? And why would he not be talking to Herr Feltsman when the Reverend Mother told Yuuri that he was the employer?

This was all probably part of some plot formed by Minako, but Yuuri did not know to what end. Why would she direct him to the wrong man? This made absolutely no sense. But, he was still waiting by the staircase, and he decided to walk off his nerves a bit.

The room was lined with many doors, paintings, and other fine furnishings, but Yuuri was immediately distracted by a door that was ajar to his right. A slight golden glow emanated from the room. Yuuri knew that it was rude to go about people’s houses uninvited, but his curiosity got the better of him. He walked over and pulled the door open to find an ornate ballroom.

Really, this was lavishness that Yuuri had never seen before. The ceiling was low, but completely covered in intricate paintings, and there were also many frescoes lining the walls. Gold paint and veneer surrounded the windows and frescoes, and another chandelier hung from the ceiling, wrapped in a sheet to protect it from dust. And, impossibly, he concluded that the room was in a Russian design. Why would a room in Austria be decorated in a Russian fashion?

He heard his shoes clack as he entered the room further, observing the cherubs and nymphs playing in the paintings. His face was reflected back to him in a mirror, and he startled at his shiny eyes and shabby clothes. Someone like him did _not_ belong in a room like this, but he may never get another chance to dance in a bona fide ballroom. Shooting a glance to the still open door, he decided to make his fantasy quick, giving in to his impulses. He bowed to a phantom partner, then began to spin gently across the floor, extending his legs and using his arms for balance. He was slowly gaining speed, twirling around the room, when the door banged open.

Yuuri jumped and swung around to face a tall silhouette standing in the open doorway, stock straight and poised at the sight of Yuuri. He couldn’t make out any features in the darkness, but he felt the man’s gaze and knew that it screamed _get out now_.

He was out of the room in seconds, apologizing profusely as he ran out.

“I am so sorry! I really don’t know what came over me, I just saw the light coming out of this room and it was so beautiful and please forgive me, I’m just _really_ stressed right now!” He watched feebly as the man didn’t respond, but closed the doors gently. He turned, and Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat.

He was tall, as he was in the doorway, but now Yuuri knew that he was _imposing_ as well. He placed both hands behind his back and straightened his posture to look at Yuuri, somehow adding to his height. He was dressed well, in a charcoal suit with his dull brown hair brushed back from his face. His pale face betrayed no humor at Yuuri’s transgression, and his blue eyes were tired and unexpressive. The man was pale and wrung out, but Yuuri couldn’t help but notice the gentle cheekbones that were prominent under his eyes, as well as the strong jaw that betrayed no humor at Yuuri’s apologies. He had long, lightly colored eyelashes that framed his eyes, which, impossibly, were a different shade of blue than Yuuri’s initial observation. With a jolt that Yuuri tried to hide, he realized that this man was impossibly handsome, even if clearly not amused by Yuuri’s transgression. The man straightened even more under Yuuri’s gaze, and Yuuri gulped at the intimidating figure; he presumed this was Herr Neumann.

“In the future, you will do well to remember that there are rooms in this house that are not to be disturbed.” Despite looking drawn and tired, Herr Neumann spoke swiftly and with no emotion.

“Uhm, yes sir, I apologize,” Yuuri replied with a nod. Herr Neumann nodded back, and closed the ballroom doors behind him. He finally stepped into the light, and Yuuri startled at _how young_ he was. This man couldn’t be more than five years older than Yuuri, but the creases and shadows under his eyes would have betrayed his age to anyone much younger.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Herr Neumann demanded, quirking his head to the side. Despite the no-nonsense tone of his voice, the question was still not unkind, and Yuuri smiled.

“Well, you don’t look at all like a captain of business,” Yuuri replied with a sigh. Minako told him that the Feltsman family owned several businesses throughout Salzburg and Vienna, but he was starting to pick up on some missing details in her story.

“Well, I’m afraid you don’t look like much of a monk,” the man replied easily, with a slight tone of mirth in the sentence.

“It’s … complicated, sir.”

“As is our story, but that will have to be a story for another time. For now, follow me please.” The man made his way towards the staircase, but Yuuri was rooted to the spot.

Something wasn’t right. About the house, about the situation, but mostly about the people in both. Both men that Yuuri had talked to so far had spoken perfect German, with Herr Feltsman also showing a heavy Viennese accent. But this man, while thoroughly convincing, was mixing up his “v”s and “w”s in his words. Honestly, it could be an impediment, and Yuuri should ignore it, but to someone as trained in languages as Yuuri, it sounded like German was not the man’s first language, and that the man was trying desperately to make it seem like it was.

_It’s nothing, mind your own business_ , he reprimanded himself, and joined the taller man at the foot of the stairs. Herr Neumann was pulling a – _what??_ – coach’s whistle out of his collar, and Yuuri jumped a foot in the air when he raised the whistle to his lips and blew a shrill blast through the whistle. As soon as it was over, doors on the second floor were opening and slamming shut, and Yuuri took cover as he heard thunderous footsteps coming from above.

These must be the children.

_Are these children, or elephants?!_

Before he could entertain that ridiculous thought, two dark haired children were running down the stairs, followed closely by a child with dark blonde hair. From the other side of the second story, a girl with a shock of wine-colored hair ran towards the landing, and a boy (with what could only be described as a triangular haircut) was close on her heels. Herr Neumann blew several staccato bursts, and the children slowed their running to a march, and began pacing down to stand in front of Yuuri. Another whistle blast, and they all turned to face him.

What in the _hell_ is going on. Completely ignoring the military-inspired march, Yuuri only counted five children, rather than the seven he was led to believe there would be.

Before he could finish that thought, a streak of blonde sped past him from behind, and Yuuri held in a shriek as the sixth child joined the ranks. This one was slightly shorter than the others, but not by much.

As Yuuri gazed over his new students, he realized that not only were they missing a person in their ranks, but the children were not all of different ages. In fact, they _all_ seemed to be within two or three years of each other, and less than ten years younger than Yuuri himself. His suspicions about this situation only grew.

Herr Neumann was at his side again, speaking in a monotone. “Now, I will introduce you. Please pay attention, as I do not want to waste time by repeating names. You will also note each child’s call with the whistle, as you will use them to gather the children from around the house.”

Yuuri could do nothing but nod. This was insane. Whistling for attention? Whistling, with an _actual whistle,_ at children, like they were animals? This was the furthest from what he was expecting at the Feltsman estate.

Herr Neumann began a series of complicated whistles, after which a child would step forward and yell their name. The triangular child, standing furthest to the left, was Georgi, followed by the wine-colored Mila, then the tall blonde Emil, the dark haired Sara and Michel, and then the newcomer, Yuri. Yuuri smiled at that, knowing that he and this child would get along famously for sharing a name. Yuri returned the smile with a grimace.

Herr Neumann spoke up again. “Children, this is Herr Katsuki, your new tutor.”

The children glanced out of the corners of their eyes to look at Yuuri, not really moving at all. Herr Neumann then turned to him, handing him a whistle out of his pocket.

“We’ll see how well you listened. But, for now, this is what I’ll use when I want to speak with you.”

The man brought his whistle to his lips, and let out a series of shrill calls before Yuuri realized what was going on. _Oh, this is meant to be my summoning call?_ He found that he was not okay with this. After a few seconds of the loud piping, Yuuri decided, with conviction, that he had to draw a line somewhere.

“I’m sorry, sir!” he called over the whistling, and the man stopped, confused look in his eye. Yuuri held his hands in front of him and spoke, more to the floor than to Herr Neumann.

“I could never answer to a whistle, sir. Whistles are for dogs and other wild animals, but they are not for children and they are certainly not for me,” Yuuri said quietly, ducking his head a little more. “It would be too humiliating.”

He risked a glance upwards, only to see Herr Neumann look more confused than ever.

“Herr Katsuki, were you this much … trouble … back at the abbey?” His voice was in a dangerous whisper, tone conveying indignation.

Yuuri brightened a little at that. “Oh, much more, sir.”

The children giggled behind them, but stopped when Herr Neumann shot them a glare.

“Herr Katsuki, this is a large house, and I will not have shouting, inside or out. If you will not use the whistle, then please find a way to peacefully and efficiently gather the six of them when it is time for lessons.”

“Well, I fail to see how a whistle is much different from shouting.”

Yuuri couldn’t believe what he had said. _How did that come out of his mouth_?! He smacked a hand over his mouth, and the children giggled behind him.

That was cut off when Herr Neumann shot a look at them. They immediately straightened, going back to their militaristic line.

With a look that Yuuri couldn’t interpret, Herr Neumann began to walk towards the stairs. Apparently, Yuuri would not get a reply, or a reprimand, from the man. But, remembering a question that really was important for him to ask, Yuuri called after him.

“Excuse me, sir, but I was led to believe there would be seven children?”

The man turned a bit, and glanced back at Yuuri.

“Well, that would be me. I am the seventh ‘child’, if you could call me that. We keep a lot of, well, appearances, in this house, Herr Katsuki, and my presence as one of the Feltsman children is imperative. Obviously, I will not be included in the lessons, but it would be appreciated if you could keep up the appearance of there being seven children in the house while in town.”

Well, that did not make a lot of sense, but Yuuri nodded slowly anyway, still making eye contact with the man.

He turned towards the stairs again, but looked back at Yuuri after a second thought.

“You may call me Viktor. Now, I’ll leave you to get more acquainted with the children.”

And with that, Herr Neumann – Viktor – disappeared to the second floor.

When the door clicked shut, the six children started giggling more and turned to each other. Children didn’t seem to be the right word anymore, as these were teenagers. Or seemed to be. Only one way to find out.

Yuuri turned back to them, and the six immediately straightened up and returned to perfect posture.

As a joke more than anything, Yuuri said “Uh, at ease,” and they went into a militaristic “at ease” position that was in no way easy.

He sighed before continuing on. “Well, now that that’s done, we can take some more time to get to know each other. How about we start with repeating your names and tell me how old you are, and we’ll go from there.”

Yuuri smiled gently at the triangular boy, Georgi, who stepped forward again. “I’m Georgi and I’m seventeen years old,” he burst, and had a pensive look for a minute. With a dramatic turn of his head, he finally concluded, “and I’m too old and mature for a tutor!”

With that, he stepped back into line. One of the children at the end of the line, Yuri, scoffed at that.

“Uhm, thanks for letting me know? We can just be friends,” Yuuri replied, confused but already too overwhelmed to question that.

The wine colored girl was next. “I’m Sara and I’m sixteen years old. And I love crying about my brother and books that are way older than me!” She finished her statement batting her eyelashes at Yuuri, who had no clue what that meant.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Mila, I hope to get to know you as much as you seem to know Sara,” Yuuri replied with a smile. Looking shocked, she stepped back in line with cheeks as red as her hair.

The next boy, Emil, stepped forward without prompting. “I’m Emil, and I’m sixteen too. This,” pointing at the dark haired girl next to him, “is Sara, and you’re smart!”

“Well, thank you Emil, but let’s let Sara introduce herself.”

Sara stepped forward shyly, and looked at Yuuri’s feet instead of his face. “I’m, well, Sara, and I’m sixteen as well.”

She had a thick accent that was neither German nor Viktor’s mystery accent. It sounded…

“… Me and my brother, Michel, are from Italy originally,” Sara stated, seemingly reading Yuuri’s mind. _This is a smart one_ , Yuuri thought, _and a kindred spirit. Two people displaced from their own countries_.

“Thank you, Sara, I was about to ask. Michel?” Yuuri looked expectantly at Michel, who gave him an indignant look and spat out rapid Italian, one language that Yuuri had no experience in. He picked up a word or two using his experience with Latin and French, but they were words that he would have been better ignoring.

Sara, coughing slightly, stepped back forward next to Michel. “Forgive him, Herr Katsuki, he knows very little English, and even less to those he does not like. We are twins, so he’s sixteen as well.” At the end of her speech, she stepped back into line and pulled Michel with her.

Well, he was certainly going to be a challenge, and he would ask why two Italian children were in a home of Austrians later. The final child, Yuri, was pointedly refusing to make eye contact with Yuuri, and crossed his arms in front of himself.

Finally, after Georgi and Mila made a point of coughing and jerking their heads towards Yuuri, Yuri finally gave in.

“Yuri,” he said, without ceremony and without stepping forward or even looking at Yuuri. “Fifteen. And I don’t see the point in having a tutor. Not with everything going on.”

“By ‘everything’, do you mean the war?” Yuuri asked, and Yuri replied with a _tsck_.

“Of course I mean the war, idiot. This is so pointless,” Yuri finished, kicking his boot a little on the tile.

“Well, I’m just going to have to prove you wrong,” Yuuri replied hopefully, praying that none of his apprehension or sheer _confusion_ about this whole situation bled into his words. “Now, like Sara and Michel, I am not from Austria originally. I was born in Japan, in a village called Hasetsu, where I spent most of my childhood.”

He heard an impatient scoff from Yuri, and a giggle from Michel. Sara and Georgi were trying to get them to pay attention, clearly embarrassed, while Emil had a wide smile on his face, rapt with Yuuri’s words. Mila was batting her eyelashes, again, whatever that meant.

“When I was ten, my parents brought me to Europe, where they worked with the Japanese ambassadors on peacekeeping after the Great War. After a couple of years, my parents went back home, leaving me with an aunt who ran a boarding school in Dusseldorf. And the rest is history.”

He was not going to divulge any more information, not before getting to know them better, and after figuring out why six kids of the same age were pretending to be related.

As he was trying to think of something else to say to them to break the silence, a door burst open behind them, and a woman stalked into the room, closely followed by a large dog.

After that, chaos ensued.

He was immediately tackled to the floor by the dog – a standard poodle – and was receiving licks to the face. He giggled at the attention, and began scratching the dog behind the ears. The dog gave a quiet _boof_  and allowed Yuuri to sit up, still petting the dog on the head.

The woman, however, began yelling in what Yuuri assumed was Russian, and the children scattered up the right side stairs. Michel, Sara, and Emil stayed behind, apparently not knowing what was being said, until Yuri yelled down at them from the second floor.

“She says ‘dinner in thirty minutes’ _idioten_!” With that, the final three children disappeared behind the same doors on the second floor. Yuuri was stunned, but stood from his spot beside the poodle on the floor. He turned and held his hand out to the woman anyway.

“ _Zdrastvooyte_! Yuuri Katsuki,” he greeted as she shook his hand.

The woman seemed to brighten slightly, and began speaking more rapid Russian, at which Yuuri took his hand back and began waving them wildly in front of himself.

“Wait- I’m sorry! I’m, uh, I am afraid that is all the Russian I know. Uhm, English?” he asked hopefully, knowing that she didn’t speak German like the rest of the children, but wondering if she spoke another one of his languages.

In response, she just shook her head and said “Lilia. House woman,” in a very heavy accent.

Yuuri smiled in reply, thinking that more speech would simply be confusing. Lilia seemed to the housekeeper, which would make his life easier. She could help him get the children into more of a routine than he observed today.

Lilia nodded at his reply, and led him up the left side stairs. As she opened a door to lead him inside, though, Yuuri felt a forceful _slap!_ on the back of his head, followed by a weird wetness. He jumped and spun around wildly, feeling for the point of impact, only to find a tiny wadded up ball of paper, held together by _saliva_?

Yuuri turned his gaze across the room to the other doors on the second floor, to see one close swiftly in front of a blonde head, along with a quiet giggle that sounded across the room.

Yuuri looked back to Lilia, who looked slightly remorseful but with a glint in her eyes that seemed to say ‘you could have had worse’. Yuuri’s day had been weird enough, but he believed her all the same.

He was not liking his chances against these kids. There was too much mystery wrapped up in this family, and while the secrets made Yuuri uncomfortable, he knew that he could divorce that from his teaching. He felt the same stubbornness from outside the abbey emerge, and was already plotting a way to get back at the children for the spit ball while, also, letting them know that he had their best interests in mind.

With that thought, Lilia stopped in front of a door and opened it for Yuuri.

This room was certainly grander than his own back at the abbey, which he shared with his friends, as well as his old room in Dusseldorf and even back in Hasetsu. There were many windows bracketed with light, filmy curtains, as well as a chaise lounge that looked out the window that faced the lake. There were a couple of shelves that were stacked with books, as well as a mahogany wardrobe that was stationed next to another door. The bed itself was large, and had a German poof on it, which easily added six inches to the bed’s height.

Lilia pointed at his trunk at the foot of a wide bed, and then entered after him to open the door to a small washroom, gesturing inside. This was clearly his room, with a private shower and basin included.

Yuuri relaxed at the sight, and Lilia patted his arm as a way to say she was leaving.

“ _Spasibo_ , Lilia,” Yuuri said as she was closing the door.

“ _Pozhaluysta_ ,” she said, closing the door fully and leaving Yuuri alone for the first time in this house.

He stood his ground for a minute, not knowing what to think about the situation he was in, before shaking his head and beginning to unpack his trunk into the wardrobe.

Obviously, Minako knew what Yuuri was going to face at the Feltsman manor, but kept the family’s secrets for them. _It would have been much easier to just tell me_ , Yuuri thought sourly, emptying the rest of his paltry set of clothes into the drawers. He was going to find out anyway, living with them for what would likely be several months. While he would not pry into their personal business, it was clear that there were secrets that the Feltsman clan wanted to keep from the rest of Salzburg that would be held with the closing of the front doors. Yuuri would never betray their secrets, even if slightly confused as to why there were secrets in the first place.

After putting away his clothing, he turned back to his trunk. The rest of his luggage was stuffed with books, and he started placing them on the shelves when there was a knock on the door.

Yakov, the man who was supposedly in charge, poked his head in the room, and Yuuri stood from in front of the shelves.

“Dinner is served at seven, Herr Katsuki. Viktor appreciates punctual people, so please try to be on time,” the ‘man of the house’ said, closing the door without waiting for a response from Yuuri. Why would Feltsman be acting like a butler if the house belonged to him? Why did it seem like the control of the estate belonged to the eldest child of the Feltsmans’? And why did that ‘child’ have a different surname than the rest?

This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a week between these?? Take pictures, kids, this is rare. 
> 
> Anyway, I really struggled with this chapter, and it seemed clunky the entire time. But, I have to muscle through it to get to to *good stuff*. If you know TSoM like I do, then you know what I'm talking about :)
> 
> As always, if you enjoy, please leave comments and kudos! People don't lie when they say that it is a confidence booster to see that people enjoy their work. Also, you can subscribe to this story, as well as my Parking Spot series, which will hopefully be updated in the next week. 
> 
> You can find my tumblr at [https://chuckasaurus.tumblr.com/](url).

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been an idea I've had for a while, and will be my first multi-chapter fic (yayayay!!!). I'm hoping to update fairly regularly, and already have a thorough outline that I'm sure will change constantly. This will be around 14 chapters (so far as I know), and will be primarily from Yuuri's point of view. 
> 
> Understand that I have a degree in history, and take historical accuracy very seriously. That being said, I will have to change some details about people, locations, and events to fit the story a little better, as well as changing some details from The Sound of Music. I take accuracy seriously, but this is also fanficiton :)
> 
> You can find my tumblr at chuckasaurus.tumblr.com, which I made as a partner for my AO3 account.


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